


Ode to Brogue

by BarPurple



Series: Bad Things [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Poetry, Smut, Swearing, burns night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9455405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Gold and Lacey were supposed to be going to a whiskey tasting, but the best laid plans gang oft agley.





	

Lacey flexed her hands against the silk ties that bound her wrists to the headboard. She wasn’t normally the sort to be tied down in any sense, but Gold was certainly making the switch worth her while.

“That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonie lassie:”

She let her head fall back with a deep groan; that accent, bloody hell it should be illegal, that brogue sent shivers down her spine, directly to her clit. She chewed her lip and gazed down the length of her body; Gold caught her eye and winked at her, cocky bastard. They had been planning to go out tonight, but that had been forgotten somewhere between her skipping out of the bathroom clad only in tartan panties, and Gold tying her to the bed so her could paint her toenails, (he didn’t have a foot fetish, the precise craftsman in him deplored the sloppy job she did).

“The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bony Mary.”

It was probably the fault of her daft plaid knickers that had him reciting Burns from memory, which Lacey would happily admit was a hell of a turn on for her, seriously what woman wouldn’t be turned on by poetry spoken in that accent?

“It's not the roar o sea or shore, Wad make me langer wish to tarry;”

There was also something sinfully decadent about her totally naked man pampering and teasing and turning her on this way. Oh, they enjoyed plenty of wham-bam-than-you-mam quickes, but this slow and tender focus on foreplay had its place too. There’d be readings of Burns work at the whiskey tasting they were supposed to attend tonight, but this was a hell of a lot more fun as far as she was concerned. She shivered and squirmed as he blew on her toes.

“I like this colour on you.”

The nail polish was gold with sparkles, Lacey snorted at him; “Narcissist.”

He shrugged and stretched for the glass of whiskey he’d poured earlier. Lacey was itching to hurry him along, but the anticipation was delicious, of course if he suggested they actually go out at this point she’d have to slip these ties and jump him. Thankfully when it came to indulging in the pleasures of the flesh Gold only had a tiny bit more patience than she did. He leaned over her and let a dribble of single malt fall from his lips on to her nipple. A needy gasp escaped her lips.

“What kind of Scot are you? Wasting whiskey on Burns’ Night.”

His throat worked as he swallowed the rest of the dram, and the cocky smirk was back on his face.

“This is not a waste, sweetheart.”

She arched up from the bed as his lips captured her nipple and sucked the whiskey from it. He held himself above her so his mouth was the only point of contact, bastard kept evading her wriggling attempts to get closer to him. He slithered down the bed until his face was between her legs, Lacey closed her eyes and screamed when his strangely cold mouth connected with her pantie covered quim.

“What the fuck!”

Gold jerked back from her spluttering on the ice cube he’d slipped into his mouth from his glass of scotch.

“Ye dinne like the ice then lassie?”

“Bastard.”

Lacey slipped free of the ties and pounced on him. Gold was laughing as she wrestled him on to his back and pinned his hands to the bed. She snapped her teeth at him as he craned his neck up trying to steal a kiss.

“You’ll find no cowrin, tim'rous beastie in me, darling.”

“Thought never crossed my mind, sweetheart.”

She ground herself against his stiff cock, grinning as he growled low and deep.

“After that stunt I’m tempted to leave you all hard and needy while I finish myself off.”

His eyes went comically wide, a touch of panic in their brown depths. Lacey bit her lip and wiggled against him more, leaning down to whisper in his ear; “I won’t, need your cock far too much to be that cruel to both of us.”

There was a moment of awkward bouncing as she shimmied out of her cold, damp panties, but then they were both gloriously naked and she was sliding her quim over his cock, canting her hips away from his hopeful thrusts.

“Lacey! Please!”

She wrapped her fingers around him and teased his blunt head through her folds. 

“You got anymore poetry in you?”

He groaned and shook his head; she could feel his thighs tensing under her.

“Can’t remember anymore. Please.”

He sounded as wrecked as she felt. Teasing was fun, but a girl could only take so much. She sank down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one fast move. Their mutual moans filled the air, more poetic than any bard had ever written. As they hit their rhythm Lacey couldn't fault him for not recalling anymore poems, she was having trouble remembering her own name. Gold sighed it as they came together, and that was the most beautiful thing Lacey had heard all night.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Gold quotes is The Silver Tassie by Robert Burns.


End file.
